


65 Kinds of Martha Jones

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Challenge Response, Crack, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Drabble Collection, Drama, F/M, Gen, Life on Martha 1000 Drabble Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 08:11:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble Responses to the lj community 'Life on Martha's 1000 drabble challenge. You got your crossovers, your drama, your romance, your competence porn...no actual porn. Just a whoooooole lotta Martha! </p>
<p>(I doubt any of these drabbles are exactly 100 words; my apologies to drabble purists!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	65 Kinds of Martha Jones

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote these over a period of some time, according to various different promts; about the only thing they have in common are Martha herself. Also, they get odder and less organized at they go on. 
> 
> I recommend going to the livejournal community and reading the rest of the drabbles that were written for the challenge! There's some brilliant stuff on there. ^^

1\. Martha meets the Fourth Doctor, Sarah Jane and Harry Sullivan for magicallaw

"All right there, old girl?"

Martha glared up at the grating and yanked fruitlessly at the manacles. "Is he always like that?"

Sarah smiled ruefully at her, pointedly ignoring the two doctors twenty feet above their heads. "Oh, you have no idea."

Martha craned her neck backwards to eye the journalist. "And does this sort of thing happen to you often?"

"All the time," she replied around the lockpicks in her mouth. She passed one to Martha as professionally as possible, but still heard Harry spluttering slightly above.

The long end of a scarf fluttered down to a foot above their heads. "Can you climb up?" that stentorian voice boomed cheerfully, and Sarah Jane growled as she worked at the cuffs.

"And yes, he's always like that, too." The locks clicked open almost simultaneously, and they dropped.

"Remind me to introduce you to my Doctor some day," Martha commented darkly, and helped Sarah onto her shoulders so she could reach the dangling scarf.

**

2 illegality for padawanpooh

She stopped in the middle of the street and whirled on him, crossing her arms. "That's it. I want an explanation."

The Doctor put on his best innocent face, which was very well practiced but really not very good. "Excuse me?"

"We have been here for three hours, and you have been polite, attentive, and good-natured. I haven't had one brush off or snide remark about humanity in general. When we got those bags of szchiss meal you carried them. I repeat: What is going on?"

He shifted guiltily. "Well, you see, matriarchal society...I told you about that, right?" She nodded impatiently and he cleared his throat. "Well, all those things you talked about...I might have offended you."

"And this stopped you because...?"

"Martha, that's actually illegal here."

She gave him a jaundiced look. "And this stopped you because?"

He grinned at her sheepishly. "I'm stuck not-ginger, I thought I'd see what being polite was like."

"And how do you like it?"

He shifted his burden and scrubbed a hand through his hair, leaving it streaked with purple alien cornmeal. "I'll let you know."

"Thanks ever so."

***

3 Babysitting Martha for catlovestea

"I knew this was a bad idea." She was ranting, babbling as badly as he ever did but she somehow couldn't stop. "I said it was a terrible idea. I told him, don't accept nebulous rewards from the little reptilian bloke, he looks shifty. But did he listen? No!" She thwapped the Tardis console in frustration and then looked guilty. "Sorry," she muttered, with a conciliatory pat, and returned to her recalcitrant charge.

She had pulled him away from so many sensitive pieces of equipment in the last hour that she was tempted to let him gnaw toothlessly on the sonic screwdriver and damn the consequences, but she couldn't quite bring herself to it.

She pulled it away from him and scowled as he chuckled brightly at her. "Don't you try to sweet-talk me, mister. I'm not having it." He grinned a darling baby smile and patted the support strut next to him, babbling. The Tardis thrummed, practically cooing, and Martha pointed up warningly. "And don't you start!"

The baby whimpered as he pinched his finger in the floor grating, and Martha sighed. "Here now, none of that." She settled down onto her knees beside him and solemnly inspected the scrape. "Fortunately, I am a trained medical professional," she informed him, and kissed his rosy fingertip. He sniffled, one last tear trickling down his round cheek, and smiled at her.

She sighed helplessly as he grabbed her hand and began intently examining it and making little burbling remarks. "He is pretty cute," she admitted grudgingly, and the center console's light flashed smugly. Martha laughed as he gummed her thumb. "Still has the oral fixation, though."

**

4 Martha finds a particularly strange or beautiful spot in the TARDIS for [Unknown LJ tag]

Adding to the shrine-like atmosphere of the room were the nine podiums arranged around the circular wall. She started at her left and examined them one by one.

A folded jumper. A pair of men's dress shoes. Two shiny silver spoons. A cat pin, a cricket ball, a tangled yo-yo, a neat toolkit, a cheap plastic recorder; and out of place amongst the random collection of doodads, some sort of very official-looking document with the pretty geometric designs she recognized as Gallifreyan writing.

She reached out one finger as if to touch the silvery paper, and the Tardis hummed noncommittally as she drew back without ever touching it.

She left the room as unsettled as if she had trespassed in a graveyard, and didn't complain about the Doctor's babbling for the whole rest of the evening.

**

5 Martha and a tin of paint for persiflage_1

She glares darkly at the tin of paint. It is soft yellow, just the shade she wants the kitchenette to be. The roller and brush are clean and new, she has paper down, the window is open; it is altogether the ideal situation for redecorating.

She has wanted the new color for about a week now, since she had a cookie-making marathon in the kitchen and decided it was too dark. The situation started to really annoy her three days ago, but she only bought the paint today.

She flicks the paint can's side with a metallic tink and feels a strange surge of melancholy.

The Tardis knew when she wanted a new color and did it for her.

**

6 Stuck in the Land Of Fiction for biichan

Martha had one of the chunky white robot's arms, the bloke in the kilt pinned its legs (and gave a rather nice view in the process), and the older woman and her young friend held the other arm. The tiny girl knelt on the thing's chest and pulled off its face plate, and deftly began manipulating the circutry underneath. The formless white void that they were in was taking on an urgent orange tinge, and there was an ominous thumping noise like a mechanical army approaching.

"Sarah Jane!" The youngster said anxiously.

"Luathaich, Zoe!" the kilted guy said almost simultaneously.

"I almost have it," the girl said, her light voice very professional. And then, with a high electric twang, Martha felt herself disappear.

She dropped into being in the Tardis' control room. "What are you doing!" she shouted.

The Doctor blinked at her, still smiling. "I'm saving you, Martha!"

She stormed over and shoved him around to face the controls. "Well, unsave me. I wasn't finished."

**

7 The Doctor discovers Martha has very soft skin. parrotfish

He hadn't considered the question. Honest.

Her lips were soft, but that was completely normal in his experience. Her hands were hard, callused with work--much more something he would expect for someone like his Martha (no, wait, not his Martha), who was sharp as a knife and strong as sprung steel.

Today, in this cell and bleeding out, she was taking his temperature; her hands were cold, so she pressed her smooth dark cheek against his.

He found himself surprised by how soft it was. When she blinked, her damp eyelashes tickled against his cheekbone, and he wound his own work-roughened fingers around hers.

"It's alright," was what he wanted to say; but somehow, what came out was "Softly, brave heart."

**

8 Martha has decided to become the galaxy's expert on Gallifreyan emergency medicine for...some loser.

Puppy Eyes met Resolve Face in an epic battle over the kitchen table. Martha crossed her arms. "You are the only known Time Lord alive--well, there's no sense in pussy-footing around it, is there?--and every doctor who has heard of your species thinks they're a myth. What happens if some Earth doctor has to fix you?"

He winced, and touched his chest reflexively in memory. "I died once when a cardiologist failed to accommodate for binary vascular system. Funny story, that..."

"I'm sure." Martha refused to be distracted, and decided to save the 'I died' issue for later. "I am going to find out how to treat you when you're hurt, even if I have to recruit the Tardis' help." He was wavering. Time for the clincher: "And if I do that, the first thing I'm researching is Gallifreyan sexuality. In-depth. And then I'll ask questions." She leaned over the table menacingly. "Lots and lots of questions."

He smiled nervously. "How about I teach you a little Gallifreyan emergency medicine?"

She smirked. "Good boy."

**

9 Martha as a Time Lord for netgirl_y2k

She was drifting by that point, barely conscious enough to realize that the Doctor had fallen silent--always a very, very bad sign.

They had barely entered the outer doors, it seemed, when they entered they infirmary--either she had lost it completely for a while, or the Tardis was helping. Another bad sign. "Doctor?" she asked, and was shocked by how faint she was.

"Shh," he said tenderly, and brushed her hair back. "we'll have you right as rain."

It really was no fair that she had to die in order for him to be nice. Maybe she said that out loud, because he froze for a minute before continuing his urgent motions. "No dying, today, Ms. Jones," he said far too brightly. "Ahhh....here we go." He crouched down beside her cot and held up his hand; what looked like a flock of tiny fireflies whirred over it. "Nanogenes," he said softly. "fix you right up."

He blew them over her with a puff of air, and as her eyes slid shut she thought she felt his lips brush her forehead.

Some time later, or immediately after, she lurched upright. "Doctor?" she said, frightened. Either she was mad now or blind before. He rushed to her side. "Doctor what...."

He was pale as a ghost, and she could feel the anxiety behind his expression. His long fingers closed around her left wrist, and she put her free hand to her throat to feel the too-fast heartsbeat there.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Martha," he said and some how she knew that he was in part sorry for the half of him that wasn't sorry at all--she who had always thought herself missing the insight gene.

"Huh," Martha said.

**

10 Martha falls asleep on the floor of the console room for parrotfish

The Doctor tripped over something on the floor, which wasn't unusual. He looked down with the intention of removing whatever he had tripped on and stopped short.

His newest companion...no. His temporary fellow traveler was asleep on the console room floor, no doubt tired from her grueling 'one trip'. Apparently, she had been looking at something on the base of the central console and hadn't been able to work up the energy to raise her head. (That had happened to him a time or two....)

She was curled into a neat ball like a cat (only less evil than a cat) with one arm pillowing her head. He considered waking her, but as he bent down the Tardis zapped him. He rubbed his arm and gave the console a hurt look. "I wasn't really going to," he protested in a whisper. He sank down on his haunches and looked at her, feeling the slight heat radiating from the floor--not usual, to be sure.

"You like her, don't you?" he said quietly, and the Tardis purred in response. He smiled slightly. "Me too," he admitted almost too quietly to be heard.

When she awakened several hours later, it was to a cup of tea, a sleeve of chocolate biscuits, and a pillow made of a folded trench coat.

**

11 SEKRET SURPRISE PROMPT for tatlovestea

"Oh Doctor, it's gorgeous!"

The woman twirled before the mirror ecstatically. "I have never worn anything prettier in my entire life. It's just perfect!"

The store owner had to agree. The dark-skinned biped wasn't too dissimilar from other customers she had had, and the glowing gold of the sheath set her off very well. The man the biped called 'The Doctor' (probably but not certainly of the same species) was much harder to read; but he bared the bony protuberances in his mouth the same way the female did when experiencing pleasure, so he was likely satisfied as well.

"Would you like the sheath wrapped, gentlefolk?" She asked courteously. (always be polite, her trainer had said, no matter how bizarre the lifeform.)

"Yes, and we'll take a couple of months of feed as well." The sheath breeder flicked her tail in the second degree of respect and withdrew to measure out the ordered feed. The pair were having a hushed conversation that wasn't quite possible to make out; but a minute later the female said very loudly,

"What do you mean 'it's alive'?!"

**

12 Martha meets Sam Tyler and the Master gets at the Doctor through Martha, for jadekirk

"I told you, I don't know anything about it!" Martha insisted for the tenth time. The big sandy-haired bobby snorted, and took a drag from his truly nasty cigarette.

"I got three witnesses and one gut instinct that says you do, love."

"Gene, you should--" the voice trailed off and Martha suddenly had trouble breathing. Unfortunately for her, the senior policeman was more interested in his subordinate's reaction and didn't notice. "Phyllis needs you," the other man said smoothly. "I can take over here for a while."

He was sitting down a mere breath later, and Martha felt herself tremble in fight or flight response. "Didn't expect to see you again," she said bravely. Her voice only trembled a little.

The man smiled at her, and it was very cold. "If it isn't the doctor's little pet." He was suddenly on his feet, apparently too full of nervous energy to stay still. "I almost forgot, you know." His voice was quiet, speculative. "Sam Tyler is almost oppressively good, but there's enough of the hunter in him that we got on well enough."

He perched on the edge of the table, and she leaned away. "I was still insane, of course. I suspect nothing can help that. But, the drums..." he leaned towards her. "The drums stopped," he whispered as if it was a great secret. His free hand began to tap out a familiar rhythm on the table surface. "But I think I get it now, Martha Jones. The drums and the madness, they're independent. The madness is ever present, but the drums...."

He sidled off his perch and slid around behind her, that one hand still tapping out an increasingly insistent beat. "The drums are a soundtrack for murder, pet."

**

13 Someone from the SJA has a crush on Martha for biichan

"What are you doing?"

The boy standing guard looked guilty and then defiant; the one working on the MRI machine didn't even look up. "Someone from Cassiopeia has sabotaged a MRI in Canada; someone is already adjusting another one in Mozambique and we need one in London as well in order to completely cancel out the malevolent magnetic wave."

Martha blinked at him, and the boy by the door said, "Don't bother trying to understand, just trust us; this is important."

"He reminds me of a friend of mine, actually," she said, slightly nostalgic. Then she easily evaded the guard and held the smart boy's hands down. "Here now, I'd like to believe you but I need a bit more than that to go on. Who sent you?"

"Who wants to know?" The boy at the door said belligerently, and in the same breath the other one said, "Sarah Jane. My mum, Sarah Jane Smith."

Martha stared, barely hearing, "Great, Luke. Do we need to talk about the excess trust again?" She cleared her throat, remembering the year that never was, and the seasoned revolutionary who helped out a scared walker in the first days of her journey. "Well, if Sarah sent you than that's okay," she said faintly.

The boy smiled at her, his china-blue eyes sunny. "Thanks," he said and returned to his work. He was done a scant minute later, and turned to them. "Done," he said. "It should take just a minute for the surge--"

It took less than a minute. Martha seized his wrists, propelled him across the room and shielded him, shouting at his friend to get down. The wave swept over them and she thought worriedly about radiation. After it passed she pulled herself off the mini-Doctor and helped him to his feet. "Come on, take me to your Sarah Jane."

She left the room expecting them to follow, and heard as she was going through the door; "Clyde? I think I'm ready to hear about the butterflies now."

**

14 Martha brings home a pot plant which changes unexpectedly for spiralsheep

"Martha?"

She looked up at the question and smiled innocently. "Yes, Doctor?"

"Is that--" he looked increasingly indignant. "Is that a marijuana plant in a terra-cotta container?"

She nodded and looked very proud of herself. "Absolutely."

"You're bringing something known to be a powerful mind-altering hallucinogen to humans on the Tardis? And for all you know, it's deadly to Time Lords!"

"Is it?" She looked curious. "For real?"

"Well...no." He cleared his throat. "Doesn't have any affect, really. Now! I won't stand for this, Martha."

"Oh, don't be such a wet blanket, Doctor. I hardly plan to use it, but they were selling it legally as a houseplant and I just couldn't resist."

"Now, Martha..." he trailed off and stared at the plant. It was slowly turning bright blue. "Martha?"

"Yes?"

He grabbed her hand and yanked her away, ignoring her cry of protest as her newly-colorful purchase hit the ground. "Never mind the pot plant, someone's released velenarl gas on the station, now run and try not to inhale!"

"How do you know?" she squeaked.

"Remind me to tell you sometime about some unexpected uses for celery."

**

15 Martha and any old school companion for spiralsheep

The man leaned casually against the room's wall. "I must say, I don't know what has you in such fits."

Martha glared at him and hissed, "You told him where the Doctor is! He'll go after him, and quite possibly injure him...oh, and then where will we be, Mister Look- Out- For- My- Own- Interests?!"

Turlough cocked an eyebrow with aloof scorn. "In the first place, I told him where the Doctor was. It's likely he has moved by now. Second, there's two Doctors out there now; do you honestly believe that moron could take out even one? And in the third place, we should be perfectly capable of getting out of here on our own." He looked her up and down with narrowed eyes. "Unless he has started bringing people along for their looks rather than competence, which wouldn't surprise me."

Martha practically quivered with indignation. "You...you are so--rude! You ginger...ohh!" she made a loud noise of frustration.

He smirked, unchastised. "That vent looks likely. Shall you stand on my back or should I stand on yours?"

**

16 "I am not wearing that!" for cat1977

The Doctor banged at the door. "Martha! Aren't you done yet!"

"I don't have anything to wear!" she wailed through the door.

He rolled his eyes. You'd think he'd be used to this by now, a millenia of life and scores of female companions behind him. "Didn't the Tardis offer you something?"

She was silent for a long moment. "Yeeess," she finally admitted slowly.

"Well, what's the problem?"

"I am not wearing that!"

He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. "She would only give you something appropriate to the occasion! And the Thians are a very particular people and this is a very particular occasion, so unless you want to end up in an exactly suitable jail cell for the duration of the oncoming stampede you'll wear what she gives you!"

"Well, there's gonna be running, yeah? I can't run in this, I'll destroy it...and possibly my ankles."

He rolled his eyes one more time and made an animal noise of frustration. "Get her to give you something long enough to wear trainers underneath, then. Whatever you do, hurry it up, time grows short!" (though that's a ridiculous statement to make, really, as if time could change in length....)

He was practicing cat's cradle with a spare shoelace when the door whooshed open behind him. "Well, I'm here," she said mulishly...but he could detect a faint hint of excitement underneath.

"Excellent! Now, we should--" he stopped short and stared at her.

Martha shifted nervously. "Is this okay?"

He couldn't answer for a moment. His companion was dressed in a floor-length gown of dove-grey spidersilk accented with silver. When she spun for his inspection, he could see that it was backless...his eye was drawn to the pendant at her throat that contained the Seal of Rassilon. The Doctor gulped.

No, he wanted to say suddenly, no it isn't okay, you can wear your jeans and t-shirt, because going to jail is better than going to the ball with you in a Time Lady's dress looking at me with big dark eyes, and you love to dance, and what if I start to let myself pretend--

Somehow all that came out was, "You look fine."

**

17 “Oooh….Doctor!” for padawanpooh

He was halfway inside the trunk when he heard his companion's gleeful voice. "Oohhh Doooctor!"

He looked up, banging his head on the lid. Growling slightly to himself, he looked up petulantly and rubbed his sore head. "What are you on about?" he took off his glasses and let his eyes refocus. "And why do you look like a cat that's got a canary."

She grinned, very, very wickedly. "You know how I said this was a waste of time? How we wouldn't find anything here, and we would run out of time before we did?"

"Yeees...."

"And remember how you told me, 'Don't be silly, Martha, and besides; even if we didn't get done in time I have a time machine, for Rassilon's sake'."

He glared at her suspiciously and refused to answer. Undaunted, she continued, "But you said again, ohh no, we won't have to do that because I'm sure that the hatchling is in this building."

"And your point is?" he said with gritted teeth.

Martha flung open the curtain with great relish and pointed out two very familiar figures racing across the courtyard pursued by something like a demonic Dr. Suess creation. "I totally told you so."

**

18 Martha wants to learn Gallifreyan for jademacgrath and Martha has a noisy accident in a library for spiralsheep

In the end, he gave up searching the old-fashioned way and called in a marker to get the Tardis to bring him to where she was. His eyebrows shot up when he found himself at the doors of the main library. Martha had first been shown the place in her first week as an 'official' companion, and it had been very satisfying to see the way her mouth dropped open and her eyes nearly stared out of her head. She had almost worshipfully touched the spine of the nearest one; and when she learned that there were books from both her past and future here, it was like a kid in a candy store.

In the end, she asked the Tardis to only let her in the small secondary library. "I could spend an entire lifetime in there," she said wistfully when he asked why. "Then who would keep you out of trouble?"

So naturally he was interested to see what had drawn her back in. He entered quietly and was surprised to see her up in the galactic linguistics section of the room. "Martha?" he called.

The effect was dramatic. She started in guilty shock, and then squeaked as she toppled sideways. Flailing, she attempted to stop her fall and only succeeded in dragging the stepladder, a shelf, and several piles of books with her.

Amidst the clatter, he scampered up the ladder to the second level. "You alright there?"

Martha groaned sheepishly and sat upright. "Nothing seriously injured but my pride."

He took advantage of her distraction and snatched up one of the books nearest her. "So, reading up on...Raxicorricofallipatorian etymology? Fascinating subject, I must admit."

She bit her lip, caught out. "No I was..." she looked up at him through her lashes. "I was looking for a book on Gallifreyan, actually."

He felt himself go still in spite of his best efforts. "Why?"

He could see her searching for the best way to phrase herself. "It's just...right now you and the Tardis are probably the only ones in the galaxy who speak it. And I know I can pick it up; but all you say in it on a regular basis are swear words and technical terms."

"How do you know they're swear words?"

She gave him a skeptical look and didn't reply. "And I didn't want to ask you because...well."

They sat there in the pile of books for a while, the human picking at the carpet and the Time Lord flipping aimlessly through a book. "Okay," he said finally.

Martha looked like she didn't know whether to hope. "Okay?"

"Rrall." He smiled crookedly at her. "'Okay' in Gallifreyan."

**

19 Space Pirates! For calapine.

“Are we there yet?”

Th Doctor fiddled with some control-doubtless entirely pointless except as a method of avoidance. “We’ll get there when we get there! Stop fussing.” He snorted. “Humans. Always running thither and yon, never stopping to smell the roses….”

Martha snorted, a sound rich with skepticism. “I bet you’ve never smelled a rose in your life.”

“Sure I have,” he protested, looking hurt. “I mean…” he thought for a minute, then snapped his fingers and pointed at her dramatically. “I smelled a flower just the other day! Remember, the nice little purple planet….”

“And then you licked it. And then you said that yes, it did show signs of the grub’s passing and by golly Martha we’d better get a move on.”

The Doctor pouted and turned to his controls pointedly. Martha rolled her eyes and sighed. She managed to wait five more minutes of stupefying boredom before asking again, “Are we there NOW?” He didn’t respond. “Oh, are you sulking now? You know, everything you say something about how inferior humans are and Time Lords are so much better, you do something like this-“

Instead of answering, he brought up an image on the screen to her left. She looked over to see their little convoy of inter-system jalopys cruising through space as they had for the last five hours. But there was something different now; the neat formation was wobbling and little darts of light leapt between them. “Doctor, what-“ she had to stop and grab onto the side of her chair as the tiny ship shook.

“Space pirates!” he said. Martha narrowed he eyes suspiciously as she thought she heard glee as well as indignation.

“Space pirates? Are you serious?”

He hit a few keys and launched himself out of his chair. “Martha, when am I ever not serious?” he said, voice muffled by the footlocker he had buried himself in. Before she could formulate the retort she dearly wanted to make, he emerged, looking heroically disheveled. “Do you know how to use a stun gun?”

She caught it, barely. “I guess so. Why..?” The ship shook again, and he grinned at he maniacally.

“We’re about to be boarded.”

“By space pirates.”

“Sort of like stopping to smell the roses, yeah?”

**

20 Martha and her mum, after the year that never was for doyle_sb4

They were all careful with food now, Martha most of all. When the whole family was together for one occasion or another, Leo was the only one with food left on his plate. The sight would make Francine wince slightly, but it seemed to cause Martha almost physical pain. (That could feed herself for a day, or keep starving children alive a little bit longer….)

It was half a shared experience and half not; they all understood terrible things happening, understood helplessness and the horrible feeling that since everyone else in the world forgot, you had a sort of duty to remember for them. But they had uniquely horrifying experiences too; Francine and Tish and her father had lived constantly under the thumb of a madman, forced to watch family members and friends undergo humiliation and threat of death-ad in Jack’s case, repeated and increasingly brutal actual death. But they had each other, and that was something. (Martha only had to watch strangers suffer; but there were so many more of them suffering at one time, ad there was no support that wasn’t temporary ad so very dangerous. Ad she was half starving all the time…but there were moments of rest, even of serenity.)

Some days Francie envied her, and some days she pitied her. (Martha felt the same way.)

They didn’t talk to each other any more than they used to, but what conversation they did have was a little more harmonious, and underpinned with a sort of us-against-the-world solidarity.

In a very real way, Martha wasn’t hers any more. (She couldn’t understand or predict her mother any more)

But that was better than dead.

**

21 Martha becomes a ninja, for calapine.

The burly gnoll to his left squeaked in an un-manly fashion, and the Doctor cast his gaze heavenward. “Rassilon grant me patience,” he grumbled, and pointedly ignored the little scurrying noises nearby.

Such little incidents continued all the way to the manor house, and several times the Doctor bit his tongue. (Carefully, mind you, essential sensory organ the tongue.) When they finally arrived outside the gate, he hunkered down in a bush and glared at empty air. “Well?”

His companion, as uniquely annoying as he somehow always managed not to filter for in the selection process, appeared, almost quivering with excitement. “Am I going in?”

“I don’t know, Martha. Will you manage to refrain from the histrionics I observed on the way here?”

“Didn’t observe, you mean.” He growled and didn’t answer. She socked him in the arm playfully. “I know when to behave myself, Doctor.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “I will be as silent as the grave.”

He looked at her suspiciously, but cupped his hands. “Alright then. Turn it back on.” She twisted and toggled the control at the collar of her black suit and disappeared. The Doctor stood and held out his hands. He felt her slight weight settle in them and counted to three softly before launching her upwards. There were some scrabbling noises and bits of masonry falling off the top of the wall, and he winced in anticipation of being used as a cushion for her fall, but she apparently managed to recover. “Remember,” he called as quietly as possible, “just grab the wand and get out.”

“No problem, “ she replied, voice lit with infectious delight. “I’m a ninja! This is brilliant.”

**

22 Martha is along for the ride when Ten meets Five for temporalgrace.

Her gaze was bouncing between the two of them, overwhelmed by both the technobabbble and the pretty, until she finally couldn’t take it any more. “So…you’re him.”

Her Doctor nodded. “Basically.”

The slender blonde smiled a little apologetically. “Well, if we’re being completely accurate it would be more precise to say that he’s me.-since I came first,” he added diffidently.

Her Doctor raised a finger. “Ah hah, but it’s all a matter of perspective! Since she’s the one asking the question, and I am the one of me she’s familiar with, it might be more accurate to answer her question the way I did, ergo; my answer.” He scratched his head speculatively. “Although, really, humans do get hung up on issues of relativity. So it might be better to explain it in a strictly chronological fashion, as if thee was such a thing.” He looked at her seriously. “I’m him. Well, and he’s me. Well, we are roughly the same but at the same time, totally different.” He beamed.

The other two looked at him. “Am I always like that?” the earlier doctor said peevishly. Martha patted his shoulder consolingly and decided to just accept her current doubly-doctored situation.

“I’m afraid so.”

**

23 Martha discovers it’s the Doctor’s birthday for foxmonkey

The spluttering candle was tallow and its smoke was unpleasant, but Martha held it up near his face and peered at him. “you’re really 1300 years old?”

He shrugged. “Give or take a few hundred. It’s always hard for a time traveler to tell, but I’m fairly sure that I have lived through about four hundred and seventy-four thousand five-hundred days today.”

“So…it’s your birthday?”

“Ehh, close enough for jazz, yeah.”

She looked indignant. “And when were you going to tell me?”

“I didn’t intend to.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Come on, Martha Jones, it’s not like I only get a hundred or so of them like you humans. I have already had my quota of birthdays, I imagine.”

“Well, but this is the big…thirteen oh oh! And I bet anything you’ve spent most of them in cells like this.”

“Not like this, no.” He inspected the area thoroughly. “No, not exactly like this.”

“Turn around,” she abruptly said. He blinked at her. “Turn around!” She insisted, and physically turned him herself.

“Martha, what-“

“Shh.” He fell silent, less because she told him to than because he wanted to listen to what she was doing. There wasn’t much movement, although she hissed in pain at one point. (and scolded him when he almost turned around.) “Alight. You can look now.”

He spun around to see her sitting in the candle light and looking quite proud: carefully placed on top of her scarf on the ground was their last hunk of bread, with a splinter of lit wood stuck carefully in the top. She smiled at him.

“Happy birthday, Doctor.”

**

24 Martha’s watch stops for tatlovestea.

Her watch had actually stopped five or six planets into her time-travel adventure. She had showed it to the Doctor, who blithely said, “Vortex travel can be very rough on timepieces. Besides, silly thing for a time traveler, watches, if you think about it.” It had been eaten by a deviate bear mere hours later (well, it felt like hours, impossible to tell really without a watch) and she had been watchless since.

But now she was on earth, and she needed a watch; and her ‘one trip’ had left her rich in experience but still near-broke in usable UK funds. So on her next trip to her mum’s house she looked through some of her old boxes of belongings for a replacement timepiece. The one she finally dug out was a old-fashioned novelty watch she had owned for forever.

It was broken too, but maybe she could get it repaired. The watch was in the shape of a small silver owl; when you pushed his ears together, his wings popped open and revealed the clock face. Martha smiled slightly and stroked the owl’s head. It really was a nifty little trinket, and the engraving was lovely in an art-nouveau way.

Martha wondered how she had managed to resist playing with it when she was a kid.

She flipped open the wings, the world went gold, and she suddenly didn’t need a watch to tell time any more

**

25 The Doctor wakes Martha from a very hot dream for parrotfish

It wasn't the first time she'd had the dream and she was almost coming to expect it. The dream always began the same; she found herself in a man's arms, both of them panting and sticky with sweat. Martha knew with total certainty that she could die at any moment.

Then there he was, at the hatch, and some part of her knew that's ridiculous, even the Doctor can't survive in space this must be a dream but the rest of her was too overcome with crazy delight to care. "Doctor!" she screamed.

His eyes flew open, and she always thought they were most frightening when they went cold but now she knew she was wrong. "Burn with me," he hissed. "Burn with me, Martha."

"Martha?"

Martha?

She awoke with a start to see the Doctor looking at her curiously. "I didn't think I was that boring." She didn't respond, and his brow furrowed in concern. "Is something wrong?"

Martha looked into his warm brown eyes and shivered. "Nothing," she said quietly.

**

26 Jealousy (addendum: not Martha being jealous) for idea_of_sarcasm

He was looking at her again. He always did that, now, only when he knew she wasn't looking. It was different from the way he had looked at the last one, with an almost clingy desperation. Then she has let it slide, because he needed someone like that, someone who loved him and could show it with squishy little biped hugs and hand holding.

Then there was the new one, the terribly clever one. She was more like his comrades used to be, loyal friendship love that supported but didn't dominate.

But that was changing now. Less than for the wolf but more secure, more and deeper than when he was young and flighty...her Doctor was falling for Martha Jones, and the Tardis found that she didn't like it one bit.

**

27 Four things and a lizard nonelvis

"Are you sure you know how to use these?" Martha shouted forward at him. He spun and ran backwards for a few steps as he replied;

"Of course I do!" He nearly tripped and recovered with little grace, finishing over his shoulder. "Got lessons from Sir Robin, actually. Nice chap...."

"But..." she maneuvered around a telephone pole. "But what if they're real close together? I mean, can you get four shots off that quickly?"

"Of course! Well, probably. Well, maybe. Actually, probably not. We might have to run."

"Of course."

"Right inconsiderate, first set of quadruplets in centuries and they have to be born on Earth. I swear, for a dinky little planet you attract more trouble--" he cut himself off and skidded to a stop. Martha was unable to slow herself in time and slammed into his back. They both went down in a heap and he propped himself up on his elbows, undaunted. "Why, hello!"

Martha contorted to see what he was looking at and found him nose to nose with a purple gecko. "Never mind the lizard, we have to go."

Said lizard stood up on his tail and looked indignant. (there are few more viscerally amusing sights than an indignant lizard.) "I beg your pardon!" he said in a tiny, surprisingly melodic voice. "Never mind yourself. Don't you want to know where they've gone?"

Martha let her forehead clunk down on the pavement. "If it's not carnivorous space meese, it's talking lizards."

**

28 Martha writes a book. for foxmonkey

She glared at him, but instead of saying something scathing as he expected, she hauled a notebook out of her pocket, licked the tip of a grubby pencil, and started scribbling.

Naturally, the Doctor was intrigued. "What are you writing?"

"A book."

"I can see that it's a book, but why now? And what is it about?" he tried to grab it and she pulled away, still writing. Taking advantage of his greater heft and reach, he tried again and succeeded in pulling it away. Ignoring her noise of protest he started flipping through it. "'The Time Traveler's Survival Guide'? 'Section Twenty-Three: when the Doctor is being thick'?" He scanned through it, looking increasingly indignant. "How many sections in here are on how to survive me?"

Martha looked innocent. "Three?"

"Three?"

"Give or take a couple dozen."

**

29 Martha's wedding for...I don't know. I saw it somewhere! :0

Her wedding dress wasn't worth anything, it was in a rather sparse little chapel, and the witness were acquaintances rather than friends and family; but her groom was more than acceptable, and the kiss was perfect.

They thanked the witnesses and the officiator and left. When they were out of earshot, the Doctor said, "Remember, it's only so we can get a flat. Unmarried white male and colored female, not quite the done thing in 1960."

"I remember."

He cleared his throat and looked a little nervous. "And the kiss was for appearances, and because it wouldn't do to have your first wedding be completely horrible."

"I understand completely."

"So..." he looked down at her quickly, then directed his gaze back ahead. "So you're okay with all of this?"

"Entirely okay," Martha said composedly.

He was still holding her hand.

**

30 Here be dragons (kind of? in a very loose way.) for doyle_sb4

Martha was jumpier than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, and the Doctor finally felt moved to call upon it. "Martha?" She twitched. "What has you so worried?"

"It's just..." she looked around them. "Have you noticed how...prickly this planet is?"

"Hmm?" he followed her gaze around the patch of brambly field they found themselves in. "Well, yes, actually, Scandia has an unusually high number of violently defensive flora."

She shuddered. "I hate briars. Hate them. I fell in a thicket when I was five and have had a raging phobia of them ever since."

"I see. So--"

"I mean, really, what use are they?" She continued in increasing ire. "Sure, some of them have berries but most of them don't! You can't eat them, they aren't pretty, they just sit there...plotting the best way to snatch at an innocent bystander." She made illustrative snatching gestures at his face. "If you could speak plant, I bet you could hear nasty, scratchy laughter every time they draw blood. Menaces."

He snapped his fingers. "Photosynthesis!" His grin invited her to join in his triumph. "They are useful, they turn carbon dioxide into oxygen."

She bared her teeth at him and shied away from a bush. "There's plenty of plants that do that without deliberate and gratuitous mauling of passers-by. If one of them eats my face, so help me I will flatten you."

**

31 Martha by candlelight for...I forget.

"How's my little woman?" he asked cheerfully. Martha squeaked and whirled from the stove.

"When did you get here?!"

"So, 'surprised', then," he surmised, and leaned over her head to look down at the pot. "What's in here?" She smacked his questing hand.

"Stone soup. You didn't blow up the place, did you?"

"Not really. It smoked a bit. An 'artistic statement', you might call it." He stepped away and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Oh, thought you might like to know, there's a good chance the--" all the lights spluttered out. "--power might go," he finished.

She gave him a dark look, faintly visible in the fading light from the window. "Do I want to know why?"

"No, not really."

They had dinner by candlelight for the third time that week. It was almost too domestic, as he untied her 60s style apron and sat down at the table across from her. Several times a day he wondered why all the domesticity had yet to send him running.

She passed him a bowl, and licked a little broth off her wrist delicately with a flash of pink tongue in the golden light.

The domestic life had its rewards.

**

32 Martha in a corset puipui

"Four days!" she raged.

"Berate later, run now!"

"I'll berate..." she panted for breath, "When I want. Four days I was in that pervy git's harem!"

"I came as soon as I could!" he said defensively, then stopped to let her catch her breath. His eyebrows drew down and he started to look very stormy. "He didn't let them touch you, did he?"

"Oh, no." She dredged up a reassuring smile from somewhere. "No, he has a strict look-don't-touch policy."

"I thought so. 'S why I only blew up part of the palace, and I made sure no one was inside." He started as if to run again, and she stopped him, still gasping. "You havn't lost all your stamina after four days of sitting around, have you?"

She glared at him. "I'm trying to run in a corset, you utter, utter prat."

"Oh." He looked at her sideways. "Would you prefer I take it off?"

She shoved him and hiked up her filmy skirts to run. "Only if you immediately give me the shirt off your back...and don't peek!"

**

33 Martha finds something in the Tardis wardrobe for idea_of_sarcasm

She was looking for the library, but she found the world's best closet-come-chest-in-grandma's-attic.

Like most little girls, Martha had an abiding love of playing dress-up, and she found that she couldn't resist the urge to try things on. The Doctor went looking for her several hours later, and when he came in she froze in the middle of spinning in front of a mirror, looking guilty.

"Ummm...hi," she said. He was just looking at her, and she self-consciously looked down at herself. She had found and stuck with a beautiful white lacy gown that smelled of lavender and grass, and a slight hint of something musty like dirt or fear. She teetered in absurdly high heels, and there was a truly enormous scarf wrapped several times around her almost like a sari. She looked up and found him right in front of her.

He pulled the panama hat slightly down on her head. "They look well on you," he said quietly.

**

34 "Is that what I think it is?" persiflage_1

"Is..." Martha didn't seem to be quite comprehending things. "Is that what I think it is?"

The Doctor crouched down so he was eye-level with her hip and peered closely at her rear end. It was a measure of the seriousness of the situation that she didn't even voice a whisper of protest. "It appears to be a prehensile tail."

"There's a prehensile tail on me." Perhaps she thought he didn't hear her, so she repeated slowly. "Tail."

"Yep. Yeah, that's definitely a tail."

"Prehensile tail."

"Well, that's the best sort, isn't it? I suppose they can be very decorative too, but as it is you get an extremely useful fifth limb."

"Prehensile tail on me."

He peered up at her over the top of his glasses. "Yes, Martha. It's not like there'd be a prehensile tail floating around in mid-air, is it?" He returned to myopically boggling at her new appendage. "It's absolutely brilliant, if you ask me. I wonder how well it works?"

Her very useful new tail slapped him upside the head and sent his glasses flying. "You know, I'm starting to see the advantages," Martha mused

**

 

35 The hills are alive! for puipui

"Shenandoah!" The Doctor said cheerfully as the time rotor ground to a halt. "Great little planet, fantastic beaches, absolutely no sticker bushes or carnivorous ungulates."

Martha grinned. "Brilliant!"

He bounded over towards the door and stopped with his hand on the knob when he saw that she hadn't moved. "Don't you want to change?"

She looked down at her jeans and denim jacket. "I think I'll get a quick reconnoiter of the area first."

"Very well, your loss." He pulled open the door and scurried through. Martha followed a bit more cautiously, but found that they did indeed appear to be on a pristine beach.

"Oh, it's gorgeous!" She smiled at the Doctor, but he looked puzzled. "Doctor?"

"Hmm?" He crouched down, and looked out on the ocean. "Island. Didn't plan that. We also appear to be a few thousand years early. There aren't any people here."

"All the better, then. Less crowd."

"Huh." He took up a pinch of sand, let it fall, and then licked his finger. "I don't know. I have a bad feeling about this."

"Oh no," she hissed, and backed towards the Tardis' door. "You just had to say it, didn't you? Stick a big 'Kick me!' sign on your back and walk in front of Murphy, why don't you?"

Before he could answer, the entire surface of the beach beneath their feet began to move; a split appeared between the two humanoids, and they began moving away from each other, and an instance later Martha and the Doctor looked at each other from across a giant eye.

"Coll fish!" he yelped, and ran across the eye followed by a trail of little ew, ew, ews. "Extinct by 4850 but very much alive right now!"

"Let's call him Murphy!" she shouted.

**  
36 Body swapping for...I don't know. *headdesk*

The Doctor awoke slowly and very gradually. "Ugh, what hit me?" he said, then frowned in woozy confusion. "Martha?" he asked tentatively, then clapped a hand over his mouth. (smaller hand. Fuller mouth.) He dragged himself upright and inspected his (his?) body. "Oh, not again!" he said angrily, and part of him cringed because usually when Martha's voice was angry she was angry at him.

Their hosts entered the room and he stood, with only a little stumble at the different height and build. "Where's Martha? Has she got my body? Blimey, that sounds wrong...."

"We are sorry," the leader said. "There was too little time. The Kementarians were coming, and as you know, they have a dark grudge against you. There wasn't time for a full cloning procedure, but we thought to save your mind at least. Your body was taken, but your consciousness remains safe."

"We may in time even be able to grow a replacement body," one of the assistants contributed helpfully.

"What have you done with my friend?"

Martha's body managed to communicate cold fury surprisingly well.

***  
37  
Body swapping part II. (I cheat like a cheating cheater!)

"Doctor!" His head snapped up at the querulous male voice, and he looked hopeful.

"Martha?"

She came around the corner at just slower than a jog, looking quite regal in ceremonial robes, though he did say so himself. "Doctor, it's good to hear my voice." She came to a stop a few yards away and frowned. "God, does my hair really look like that?"

He wasn't able to restrain himself any more and leapt at her in an attack hug. (it was a strange and yet not unpleasant experience to be the one being lifted off the ground for a change) "They were sure that they'd kill you! How are you alive?" He lowered himself to the ground and ran a hand through 'his' hair. (it really didn't stand up to it as well as he was used to.) "Not that I'm complaining, mind you, it's just rather odd...Kementarians were more than a little irked last time they saw me...."

"Well, yes." She stepped back and looked obscenely smug. (the expression sat on the male features rather easily.) "They captured you--me--and brought me to their base. They read a list of my crimes, and allowed me to make a statement."

He waited as long as possible before bouncing up and down in anxiety. "And? And?"

"Well, 'I' was such an insufferable git the last time 'I' met them. This time, we spent a little time talking and they decided that in the interim I had somehow become a somewhat decent sentient and they let me go."

Martha's body gaped soundlessly. The Doctor's smirked and turned to the silent observers. "Can I please have my body back now? He's too bloody big, and the two hearts are very disconcerting."

***  
38  
[Song lyrics/title challenge]

They were sitting under the eaves of a building, barely out of reach of the drizzling rain. Martha had long ago given up keeping her head up, and leaned against the cool stone behind her. The Doctor had felt the need to talk constantly for a while, of course, but he had since settled down.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was looking out into the courtyard with that dark, distant expression he got sometimes that made it impossible to forget that he wasn't human. In these moments, she might as well have been in another galaxy for all the attention he paid her.

She smiled to herself, bittersweet, and turned back to regarding the rain.

"It should stop soon," he said quietly.

It did, for just a minute; the sun came through for one glorious moment of clarity, and then the deluge started again with the sun still shining brightly.

"A meteorological rarity, Martha!" He was grinning at her now, so entirely there--as in the moment as any human child and totally focused on her. He grabbed her hand and dragged her out into it, both of them laughing like crazy people.

For moments like this, it was worth the moments of distance. And maybe, someday....

Lyrics:  
You don’t know, but that’s okay  
You might find me anyway  
Don’t you know that I  
Belong arm in arm with you, baby  
In a town that’s cold and gray  
We will have a sunny day  
Don’t you know that I  
Belong arm in arm with you, baby…

***  
39  
[song lyrics challenge]

Sometimes--a lot of the time--she got swept up in his storm of activity and enthusiasm. Adrenaline addiction, after all, is a not uncommon human, and she had had her share of childhood adventures that could only be explained by 'it seemed like a good idea at the time!'.

And some of the times he was just so alien, so 'ancient and forever' that she wasn't able to understand him but could manage to trust that he knew better.

But some days...like today.... Maybe he hit some point of balance between the two, but he was just human enough that his alien, manic delight in chaos scared her to the bone.

Then she knew that it was going to kill him someday--and she didn't know if she wanted to go down with him.

Proud nomad of the past  
Beware of yourself for  
Your life won't last  
Proud Nomad of the past  
Pride has killed a thousand  
Men before you  
Proud Nomad of the past  
Beware of yourself for  
Your life won't last

***

40  
Martha tries to teach the Doctor how to play a musical instrument. for padawanpooh

He imagined that the first surgeon to get Martha under his tutelage had been delighted. She had long, slender, deft fingers that would probably be as good with a scalpel as they were with untying tricky knots.

Right now, they moved over the piano keys in a beautifully intricate dance both familiar and different. She came to the end of the song and lifted her hands. "Come on, they won't bite."

He sat down and rested his hands tentatively on the keys. "Hey, Martha," he said thoughtfully. "Have I ever taught you anything about working the Tardis' console?"

***  
41  
Martha gets stuck in a time loop for padawanpooh

He heard her come into the main room. "Martha! Can you give be that spanner? The red-striped blue one, not the blue-striped red one." He frowned upside-down--not a smile, mind you, such as a frown preformed while hanging upside-down. She was making productive noises disturbingly similar to that of someone working the controls. "Martha?" He wormed out of the grating to find his companion muttering to herself darkly as she very, very quickly worked the Tardis' central controls. "What are you--"

"I'm re-aligning the base configurations of the real-time drive, changing the timing of the positron lighthouse, and reversing the polarity of the neutron flow." He opened his mouth to speak, and she continued in a tired voice, "Yes, I shouldn't be capable of that. No, I haven't been reading manuals on the sly. Yes, what I'm doing is quite brilliant." He was reduced to opening and closing his mouth soundlessly, and she finished with a growl, "And yes, it didn't work."

She leaned back against the console and as the world shattered around them in something that felt suspiciously like total molecular dissolution, he heard her say consolingly to the Tardis, "Don't worry, sweetheart. We can try again."

The world whited out.

***  
42  
Martha goes back to school for padawanpooh

She let her head fall down to rest on the table and groaned deeply.

He frowned at her. "Doctor Jones, I somehow, don't ask me how, get the distinct impression that you're not listening."

"No, no I'm listening." She peeked at him tiredly over her arms. "It's just, in the last week I have had intensive courses in xenomedicine, Tardis piloting, Gallifreyan, and etiquette for some people I can't even pronounce the name of who have two tails and five eyes."

"But I thought you wanted to learn." He looked slightly crushed. "And you can do it Martha, I'm sure. You're as smart as any I've had...Leela or Ace, or Zoe even...."

"Oh, no!" she managed to pry herself upright in order to lean over and touch his arm reassuringly. "It's very interesting, and I want to learn." She smiled crookedly. "I just thought I was through with school when I passed my exams to become a doctor."

**  
43  
Stuck in the Land Of Fiction for biichan (this is very ,very strange. Sorry, but it wouldn't let me go. :P)

She was beauty and he was a beast; a great dragon, who had taken his hearts out of his chest and put them away for safekeeping behind a thick hedge of briar, before setting her guard over them.

Sometimes she saw a rose, but more often the thorns just cut her to ribbons and daintily sipped at her blood.

Sometimes he would come to her, and a drop of blood would fall on his skin and hiss like acid. On those days he turned back into a man, instead of an elemental force of nature, and kissed her better. On those days, she could fly.

(but the fence for the thorns is build on teary bones, and it is only a matter of time.)

***  
44  
Martha meets some old friends of the Doctor - who remember the year that never was for ryttu3k (only one friend. Sorry.)

Luke finished spouting his technobabble, got his mum's agreement to go through with it, and ran off. Martha wanted to thank him by name, but she knew he didn't remember her. Instead she smiled tightly at the older woman who was looking at her serenely. "Hello, I'm Martha Jones."

"Oh, I know who you are, Martha Jones." Sarah Jane leaned closer and said quietly, "You saved the world."

Martha stared at her and tried to formulate a response. Before she could the girl--Maria--appeared. "They're spawning faster than we can capture them with your widget, Sarah!" She skidded to a halt and looked at the young doctor with a confused, unsettled expression. "Don't I know you?"

"You do and you don't. Where's Alan and Clyde?"

Martha cleared her throat. "I think I saw Clyde near the warehouse." Just then there was a loud explosion in the distance, Sarah's walkie talkie crackled to life.

"I think I found him, Sarah Jane," Alan said dryly across it.

***  
45  
Martha finds a rebuilt Zero Room for ryttu3k

He found her curled up on the ground, quivering slightly like a terrified rabbit. When he tentatively touched her arm, with the Tardis' worried hum in the back of his mind, she nearly started out of her skin and scrabbled away.

When she saw that it was him, she lunged into his arms. He held her as she trembled, and carried her out of the room with a face like thunder.

He kept as quiet and still as he could, so as not to overwhelm her; after about ten minutes she stirred herself and dared to lift her head from his chest. Martha smiled at him tremulously. "I understand how sensory deprivation is a torture, now," she said very quietly.

***  
46  
Martha and the Doctor interrupt a Monty Python sketch for nonelvis

"They even had the right music!" he yelped delightedly. She didn't seem to share his enthusiasm. "I know you're not an anthropologist, Martha, but it truly is fascinating how the culture had based all their most sacred rituals on Monty Python routines! Brilliant!"

She scowled at him darkly. "He hit me in the head with a halibut, Doctor. A halibut. And you really don't get it, do you?"

He scratched at his head absently, pulling out several fish scales as he did so. "I'm afraid I don't. A halibut is really a huge honor." He pouted. "I only got a catfish."

"Why couldn't we have come when they were doing silly walks or silly voices?!"

"Well, think of it this way, Martha." He put his arm around her shoulder consolingly with only a slight squelch. "The Fish-Slapping dance is preferable to 'Not Being Seen'."

***  
47  
No Prompt. (gasp!)

She could take the scorn from the others--most of them didn't know any better, and besides there was a certain comfort in feeling herself to be so much more advanced and tolerant. But even that grew wearing day after day, and his coldness hurt the most.

She found herself coming to the Tardis more and more lately; every minute she could surreptitiously get away, she visited the craft...it lessened the sting, somehow. When Jenny visited family, she would even spend the night. Oddly enough, those times she found herself avoiding her bedroom. She would put on her girliest, most modern nightgown and bed down in the main console room.

The third night she did so she found that a little padded alcove had appeared off to one side. She didn't need to say thank you, but she talked anyway.

(After the Doctor came back, perhaps he didn't notice but she didn't really spend much of her spare time with him anymore. Who needed a Time Lord when your best friend was a Tardis?)

***  
48  
No Prompt...again. (bad, bad me!)

It was great at first. She felt like a paragon of virtue next to her teammates and her boss was nice--not to mention pretty bloody nice-looking and not afraid to flirt.

The cloud appeared around the silver lining soon enough. She could tolerate the annoying coworkers and interact amiably enough with the others; the work was interesting, and the moral ambiguity never budged her in her convictions. The boss, however, began to get slightly on her nerves.

Oh, they had met first, and they had a lot in common; but more and more often it was becoming clear that they didn't really know each other very well. At least once a day, it seemed, he mentioned something about "Francine this," "Clive that," "Tish so-and-so."

(He knew her father was a dab hand at whittling. She had never known that. He spoke of Francine with rueful fondness and had nothing but admiration for Tish.)

She didn't begrudge her family the admiration, but for once she would like to be somewhere where she wasn't always being compared to someone else.

***  
49  
Martha picks a button in the Great Glass Elevator for puipui

It was just so gosh-darn frustrating! He would have thought for sure that of the half-dozen tickets found, there couldn't have been more than one picked up by some child who wasn't rotten. But here he was at the end of his licorice rope, so to speak, and there were two children!

They were both smart, and brave. They had both shown signs of curiosity and generosity, and though the little boy had seemed the clear leader in whimsical creativity at the first, as she relaxed the girl was pulling even with him. It was extremely perplexing.

So Willy decided on the spot to have one more test. (Candy-inventors have to be quick on their feet, or who knows what kind of Smootawley could leap out of the bushes and attack?) "Hey, why don't each of you pick one more room?" He nudged one of them gingerly with his cane. "Why don't you go first, little girl?"

Martha bit her lip and exchanged a glance with Charlie, but then squared herself and looked over the buttons. With only a brief hesitation, she pushed one.

"Cloister room?" He gave her a very serious look out of purple eyes. "An interesting choice, little girl."

Then they were off.

***  
50  
Grasping at straws for puipui

"This," Martha said definitively, "Is the stupidest sport ever."

"Don't be ridiculous!" He surfaced from the vat of stick-like objects, looking indignantly disheveled. "I've seen loads of stupider ones. And besides, it's not stupid at all! It's because of games like this that the Vorns are renowned throughout the galaxy for their skills at spatial analysis and mass estimation."

She was not impressed. "Uh-huh."

"Oh, come on, Martha! It might be more fun if you actually participated, you know." He dove back into the sea of straws, and she sighed and resumed picking listlessly at the available straws and setting a few aside almost completely at random.

He surfaced like a leaping whale and she prepared to have her choices critiqued. But he held something triumphantly in his hand. "I've got it! I've got it!" She scrambled out of the way as he hauled himself out and ran on all fours for a minute before getting upright and gently placing his prize on top on the existing heap. There was a slow, slow pause in which every Vorn held their breath--then the wooden, vaguely dromedary figure collapsed.

The crowd went wild, and the Doctor looked smug. "It was bendy one, too. I like bendy straws."

***  
51  
Next to the Tardis key on a chain around her neck, there's a wedding ring, for that erisinia person.

She's thought to remove it. If any of her family or friends saw it, it would be difficult to explain away. It was somewhat depressing, too...a memory of something that hadn't quite been and probably never would.

(He'd been a little abrupt and a little shy when he slid the cheap silver band over her knuckle. She had done the same with his, and he alone knew how she looked as she pushed it on, the ridges of the celtic knot work smooth under her fingertips. He kissed her hand, and it looked dark and delicate against his cheek.)

But somehow, every time she thought to slide it off the chain, the Tardis' key would clink against it and she would change her mind. Let them stay together; maybe they could encourage each other...two impossible things.

***

52  
"I bet Wonder Woman never had to deal with this." for padawanpooh

The Doctor was in full-on Oncoming Storm mode as he stared down the white-collar slave trader in his opulent robes. He had the man thoroughly intimidated, but for some reason his frightened eyes kept drifting to Martha.

He couldn't help but look himself, just in time to catch her muttering under her breath as she yanked her strapless bodice back to its proper height. He continued looking at her and she scowled even as her cheeks warmed in embarrassment. "I bet Wonder Woman never had to deal with this." She crossed her arms securely over her chest. "I think that's one of her super-powers. Super-costume staying-power."

"I'm trying to right a wrong here, Martha!" he hissed, momentarily ignoring his intended victim.

She raised her hands briefly in sarcastic surrender, before making a quick grab for her top again. "Right away. But if you want a real wrong, look to formal-wear on this planet."

***  
53  
"You look like a space hooker!" for padawanpooh

"I do not!"

"You do! Those things are bloody vacuum-sealed, and the shirt...let's just say it leaves nothing to the imagination."

"I've seen less. What do you object to, really? Is it the leather?"

"I like leather. I have worn leather, and what did I do with that jacket, anyway?...anyway, the point is that bright pink tight leather trousers are never not going to be trashy."

The Doctor pouted and tugged at the chains on his boots. "The Prince of Keiferr gave me these."

Martha was unable to fully suppress her smile. "And you should have politely accepted the outfit and then consigned it to wardrobe purgatory, like the rest of us do."

***  
54  
why Martha and goldfish are a bad combination for glinda_penguin

He had finally put her knickers down, thank heavens. But he didn't wait long before bounding over to her dresser to examine the glass object there. "Well, that's a bit different."

"It's a fishbowl," she said, slightly embarrassed. "Kind of fancy-looking, but that's good for when it's empty."

He looked at her curiously. "Do you usually have fish. then?"

"Well..." She cleared her throat. "Theyalldieeverytime."

"But, Martha! I thought you were trying to be a doctor!"

"Not a goldfish doctor," she said firmly.

*~*~*

Her room in the Tardis was wonderful, but the first thing she really noticed was the glass sculpture filled with holographic goldfish. She could think it was sweet or think it was teasing. She decided on 'sweet'.

***  
55  
A whooole lotta A-Team for spiralsheep

The silver-haired man blew out a puff of smoke towards the nearest light panel. "I like what you've done with the place," he said wryly.

The Doctor lit up and bounded over towards him. "Hannibal!" he visibly restrained himself from hugging the man and instead beamed madly, hands stuffed in pockets as he rocked back and forth from heel to toe. "This is absolutely brilliant! Not that I mind you being here, which I don't, because this is just too, too brilliant...but what are you doing here?"

Instead of responding, 'Hannibal' took his cigar in one gloved hand, and opened the Tardis door with the other. "Come on in, boys." he said with a slight, enigmatic smile.

"I ain't getting in there with that loony, Hannibal!" Someone said gruffly outside.

A skinny, brown-haired man in a battered leather jacket burst through the door, dragging a slight blond behind him. He stopped short inside the door with a slight gape, but the brown-haired man bounced in place, quite at home and not too unlike the Doctor. "I told you, Facey-man! Bigger than it looks, friskier than a little puppy, and prettier than a new sunrise!" The Tardis cooed happily, and he patted the railing with a face-splitting smile that made him look very handsome. "I toldja I met Napoleon, didn't I?"

"Hannibal?" The pretty one asked, with a slight whine in his voice. Hannibal didn't seem to be at all concerned with answering questions. The man's disbelieving blue eyes roamed around the space before settling on Martha. (here was something he understood!) "Why, hello," he said with a charming smile. "I'm Face. And what's a girl like you doing in an impossibility like this?"

She suddenly and intensely was reminded of Jack.

The voice from outside apparently didn't care for being ignored. "I pity the fool that don't tell me what's going on!" he roared.

Hannibal grinned brightly around his cigar. "I love it when a plan comes together," he remarked cheerfully to the Doctor.

***  
56  
Martha/Two for persiflage_1

"My Lady, we have brought some other trespassers before you."

"Bring them in," said a thoroughly regal voice with just a hint of London.

The Doctor and Jamie looked apprehensively at each other, than Jamie and Zoe held each other's hands, and then Zoe and the Doctor gave each other encouraging smiles, and then they were in a...well, frankly rather grody little throne room.

There was nothing grody about the lovely little woman on the throne, however. She raised a curious eyebrow as the obsequious man who had announced them listed their crimes in a pompous voice. She waved her hand halfway through, and he fell breathlessly silent. "I will bend my mind upon them to see if they are any use keeping. You may go."

The fellow scuttled away surprisingly fast. As soon as he was out of the door. As soon as he was gone, Her Ladyship relaxed, bringing her feet up to sit tailor-style and resting her chin on her hand. "Who're you, then?" she said, a little tiredly and a little curiously.

"Why, I'm the Doctor, my dear girl! And these are my friends Jamie and Zoe."

Her hand dropped, and she stared at him. "Seriously?"

***  
57  
Martha/Four for persiflage_1

"I'm the Doctor, of course!" he boomed.

Curiously, the girl's only reaction was to groan heavily and let her forehead thunk down on the arm of the throne. "Of course you are."

Doctor and best friend exchanged a glance. "Are you all right?" Sarah Jane ventured.

"No!" 'Her Ladyship' sat back straight and flailed slightly. "I seem to be finding every bloody Doctor in the universe except for the one I enacted this whole policy to find!"

"Did you really?" The Doctor looked very interested. "And which Doctor is that?"

"How should I know?!" She wailed. "It's not as if any of you recognize me!" She ticked off on her fingers: "There's the little one, Jamie and Zoe's Doctor: The blond one, Turlough's Doctor: The white-haired one, Jo's Doctor: and now you. No sign of my Doctor."

Sarah Jane made sympathetic noises. The Doctor just regarded her levelly from under the shadow of his curls and then grinned, unnervingly large. "Would you like a jelly baby?"

She glared at him.

*~*~*~*~

He protested loudly as they dragged him out. "Now there was no cause for taking ALL of my jelly babies! And how in the world am I going to replace that scarf? This just isn't done!"

"Good luck, Martha!" Sarah called. Martha waved the end of the scarf at her.

***  
58  
Martha writes an email, to any authority figure, excusing her absence from...for spiralsheep (letter, not email. sorry.)

Dear mom and dad, she wrote, then stopped and frowned. She scribbled that out and got another sheet of paper. Dear mother and father, she wrote instead. That's better. More mature.

I am old enough now to go and have adventures. You always said I couldn't, so I didn't ask you this time. I'm sure you'll be okay; you have Leo and Tish to help with dishis and stuff. (I didn't leave a note because I knew it would get lost, so that is why I'm sending you this letter)

(she had papers, pen, envelope, address, and plenty of postage. Martha Jones was nothing if not organized.)

I will miss you some, but I am going to be busy with my adventures. So you don't worry --she hesitated and chewed on the end of her pen, unsure as to what to do next. "What has you so worried?" said a mild, Scottish voice. She spun around, with wide eyes, and saw a kind of short man older than her dad, with blue eyes and funny clothes. (she liked his brolly, though)

"I'm running away to have adventures. But I'm not sure what I'm gonna write my parents."

He rested the tip of the brolly on the ground, and folded his hands on top of the handle. "Oh, really?" He rested his chin on his hands, and she decided that she liked his twinkly eyes. "It's not all it's cracked up to be, sometimes. Having adventures. Although I'm sure you would be admirably suited to them."

*~*~*~*~

when he brought her home, her mother glared darkly at him, suspicious as always in matters of safety. Martha didn't notice after she bid him polite goodbye; she was too busy telling Tish about everything, and they spent the rest of the day playing with spoons and trying to roll their 'R's.

***  
59  
prompt by persiflage_1

"There is a slight possibility, you have to understand that! I don't have enough time to explain anything of use, but if you can work things out you could be back here in no time."

"Got it," Martha said, tearing up very slightly.

"And I really mean no time, with the differential it could be years there and only minutes here, the Tardis is having to work hard to give me even this much." His image wavered, and he looked off to something at the side that she couldn't see. "Well, this is it. Martha Jones, I just wanted to say...."

She held her breath bravely, and it was probably only sea spray on her cheeks. He was fading fast, and his final words came as if from a distance; "You owe me two quid."

Only the sand, sky, and surf heard her furious scream.

In another universe, the Doctor leaned back on the console and looked pleased with himself. "She'll get it in no time at all now, if only so she can come back and slap me good."

***  
60  
(No prompt.)

It was because she was so fearless, he decided. She didn't mind looking silly, she just said what she thought; and though she was sometimes reticent he thought that was learned rather than natural. In sleep, she had no such barriers.

They ended up in the same room or cell or giant crustacean often enough that he'd had ample opportunity to listen to her as she slept. She didn't talk, exactly; she whimpered and murmured and giggled and sighed, and made little happy noises like a sleeping puppy. Sometimes she sang...nothing audible, although once he swore he recognized an old Gallifreyan lullaby.

He didn't ask for it, exactly, but somehow when she was asleep in her room on the Tardis the sounds she made always found their way to wherever he was.

***  
61  
Martha, who has lost the Doctor, is in the 18th century and decides to make her living as a highway(wo)man for dracothelizard (bit off prompt, sorry.)

"Well, I dunno," Sarah Jane said meditatively. At least, as meditatively as one can speak when completely sloshed. "I don't want to lessen my own argument--and really, waitress to alien nobility is interesting but grueling--but Martha has both the maid thing and, what, half a year as a shop girl? That might take the cake."

They all looked lustfully at the cake in question, provided as prize for the "Most Screwed Over Career-Wise By The Doctor" competition.

The companion of the latest Doctor, the ginger one, leaned forward, taking unscrupulous advantage of her height. "I was stuck on Crete at the height of Minoan civilization for over a year." She waved her hands demonstratively, and Jo ducked them with surprising deftness. "I had to become a bull leaper."

Martha tipped her glass to her successor. "Not bad. Very good in fact. But I have--" she ticked them off on her unsteady fingers: "Maid, three months; shop girl, seven months; and another half a year all by myself Robin-Hooding as a highwayman in the 18th century." She frowned. "Wo. Highway-Womaning. Whatever."

They all looked on her in an impressed way. "I think that deserves triple chocolate."

Martha seized her cake gleefully, and took up the first forkful. "All he got me was some jelly babies," she spoke around the sugary treat resentfully.

***  
62  
Sign language for kbk

The initial panic at finding herself voiceless had long since faded, and she was left glaring darkly at the Doctor's lively conversation with the chancellor. I hate you, she mouthed, but he either ignored her or didn't see.

Later on, when they slapped them in manacles, she furiously attempted to get him to demonstrate what he'd, uh, 'said' wrong. He had given the beginnings of a long and involved sign language explanation, but gave up with a dismissive gesture halfway through. He pointed at her, pointed to the left side of his chest with a heartbeat gesture, then made a sort of spluttering lightbulb sign at the side of his head.

Humans are stupid, she translated.

Her returning gestures didn't require any translation.

***  
63  
1001 Arabian Nights for ??

 

Martha lifted up the veil to spit out a gritty mouthful, tightened her legs around her horse's sides and held on to the looted camel's reins a little tighter.

1000 days. Thirty three months. Inching up on three years.

Ohh, yes, she thought grimly as the hill bandits were left choking on her dust. After this, she was shanghaiing the Tardis and leaving him on Beriichon for a decade. She'd discussed the idea with the ship, and she seemed fine with it.

When she came to their parking place she stopped and blinked. "This is because I complained about the sand dune disguise, isn't it?" she muttered, but the gaping mouth of the golden lion's head didn't answer.

She dismounted and began to lead in the animals as the sun slipped over the horizon. 1001 days.

His voice cheerfully greeted her, excited to share the results of his latest night of tinkerings, and she reminded herself for the thousand and first time of her Hippocratic oath.

 

***  
64  
Song lyrics challenge.

*~*

This time, he'd ask her not to leave. He wouldn't say goodbye to a closed door, or "I'll miss you" under his breath; this time he would discard his well-patched pride long enough to ask her to stay.

*~*

They didn't make it, the words. Neither did "You are magnificant" or "I love you" or "I hope you have a fantastic life". He rubbed his thumb along the side of her mobile and tried to tell himself he was restraining himself for her own good.

It didn't work.

"Don't leave," he said quietly to the phone. The Tardis chided him gently, and the phone made no reply.

*~*

Paper paper obsolete  
How will you reach out to me  
I thought you'd ask me not to leave  
Lonely lonely that is me  
Lonely lonely that is me

Distance makes the heart grow weak  
So that the mouth can barely speak  
Except to those who hide their needs  
~Lonely Lonely by Feist

***  
65  
Martha in the Doctor's coat for ??

"..why's she wearing your coat?"

The Doctor grinned brightly. "Funny story, that, actually...."

"No it's not!" Martha scowled at him with an expression blacker than the Earl of hell's waistcoat. "I don't care if he's the one other card-carrying Time Lord out there, I don't care if he's lost most of his memory, I don't care if he's 'mostly just batty' and 'practically harmless'...I don't want him in my sight ever again."

He appeared to be trying to keep a straight face. "You have to admit, Martha, that of all the things he could have hypnotized you into doing...."

"Not many worse." She flushed so darkly it was visible even with her mocha complexion. "What were you doing with this thing on the Tardis, anyway? It's nothing more than some leather strips masquerading as an outfit!"

"Ah, yes." His face took on a look of fond nostalgia. "Leela was stubborn about that thing, bless her."

***


End file.
